


Talk, Don't Speak

by TT_Angst_Queen



Series: Talk, Don't Speak [1]
Category: Bull (TV 2016), NCIS
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s15e01 House Divided, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT_Angst_Queen
Summary: Gibbs Speaks, but he never Talks. Dr. Confalone gives him a week to change that before she takes action.(Read Author's Note.)





	Talk, Don't Speak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSleepyProducer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSleepyProducer/gifts).



> This is an AU on the basis that Tony left not because of Ziva, and Tali never existed. I had to write around that (you're welcome, Sleepy *cheeky wink*) because of the prompt and prompter "Crossover" because I'm a scardy cat and I went for the most obvious and easy crossover. Not that many people are writing these crossovers. *prods NCIS authors with cattle prod to start writing BULL/NCIS crossovers* 
> 
> Anyways, this will be a series, since I do not write long fics anymore because I have learned my lesson that I cannot do that without abandoning them. somehow, series are different.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Gibbs, if you won’t talk to me, who the hell will you talk to?” Grace threw up her hands in frustration and rolled her eyes, fed up with Gibbs’ refusal to speak about anything personal. Notably, anything to do with his past, or anything painful. So pretty much what he was supposed to be doing in his doctor-ordered therapy sessions.

 

Gibbs glared mulishly at her.

 

“I do talk to you, doc,” Gibbs growled, blue eyes hard.

“I talk to you for an hour three times a week, just like Taft ordered.”

 

Gibbs’ stubborn nature may be a good thing when he did his job, but when it came to the rest of his life and his relationships with people, it was an obstacle that Grace wished to burn with a flamethrower and smash with a sledgehammer.

 

“I hate to inform you, Popeye,” Grace snarked, “But you _speak_ , you don’t _talk_.There’s a big difference, despite popular belief. You _speak_ about your boats, you don’t _talk_ about why you build them. You _speak_ about your job, but you don’t _talk_ about what happens or how it affects you. You _speak_ about Shannon and Kelly, you don’t _talk_ about what they meant to you, how you felt about their deaths, or what happened after. You _speak_ about Paraguay, but you don’t _talk_ about your experiences and your feelings on what happened to you,” Grace looked at him with her own icy glare, and Gibbs held back his flinch as her words dug deep, choosing instead to glare back. “You see where I’m going with this, Jethro?”

 

Gibbs knew exactly what she was talking about, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like _talking_ , he didn’t like putting his heart on his sleeve for the world to look at and mock him for his perceived weakness. He wasn’t one to advertise his woes and his unshed tears. The last thing he wanted to do was to talk to some headshrinker who didn’t really know him well enough for him to feel comfortable bearing his problems to her.

 

“So what if I do, doc?” Gibbs snapped, “It’s not gonna change anytime soon, ok?” rolling his eyes, Gibbs stood up, fully ready to leave and go back to his basement and bourbon, but Grace put a quick wrench in his plans.

 

“Agents Gibbs, if you don’t find someone to talk to, I will have to recommend you be put on medical leave, pending a psych eval, in which I will be the one evaluating you.”

 

Gibbs froze, his hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. He could feel a burst of anger flare in his chest, and he turned his fiercest glare onto Grace.

“You wouldn’t _dare._ ”

 

Grace raised her eyebrow, unfazed.

 

“Watch me. You have a week, Gibbs.”

 

* * *

 

 

He had a week. A damn week until Grace would pull him off duty because he wouldn’t talk to her. He couldn’t believe the gall of that woman; threatening to take away the one thing that kept him from breaking completely.

 

He sanded his boat harshly, mind running through different ways to fix this, and discarding each one. He couldn’t let her put him on medical leave. He needed this job; it was the only thing that kept him going most days, without he would have no reason to get up in the mornings.

 

So who? He had to talk to somebody, clearly, but who?

 

Not Abby, as much as he cared for the young woman, she would only smother him in hugs, and coo at him.

 

Not Ducky, he would only wax about his experiences, and as much as he trusted his old friend, he still remembered the cool iciness that Ducky showed him after Mexico.

 

Not Leon, the man was a friend, but he didn’t trust him with his heart.

 

Not McGee, the boy may have grown a lot since he had been added to Gibbs’ team, but he still viewed Gibbs’ with some aspect of fear.

 

Not Bishop, while she had been with them for almost five years, she was still too new, too… innocent, to be burdened with his problems.

 

Definitely not Palmer, no way in hell. The man may have grown, and Gibbs was proud of him, becoming a Doctor was something that had filled Gibbs with pride for the once shy and introverted young man.

 

Torres was also too new, even though one day he could see the young man becoming just as close as he and Tony had been.

 

Tony.

 

 _Tony_.

He hadn’t thought about that option before, too caught up in the people around him, and not the ones that weren’t.

 

Perfect.

 

Reaching into his pocket, Gibbs opened his cell and punched in a number.

 

“Hey, Tony... I know you were gonna visit in a month, but look… I need some help…”

 

* * *

 

 

Gibbs wasn’t one to fidget nervously or get nervous in the first place, but that’s exactly what he found himself doing as he waited impatiently for Tony’s plane to land.

 

Gibbs hated airports.

 

The noise in the packed airport was loud and scratched at his ears like a broken record needle, and the smell of perfume from the gift shop right beside the gate he was waiting at made him want to simultaneously wrinkle his nose and sneeze his lungs out through his nostrils. The uncomfortable chairs with their ugly fluorescent faux leather covers made him cringe and shift around, trying and failing to find a comfortable way to sit.

 

If it wasn’t Tony he was waiting for, Gibbs would have told him to get a cab. There was no way Gibbs would have put up with waiting in this damn cesspool for anybody else.

 

“Gibbs!” Turning toward the familiar voice, Gibbs drank in the sight of his former SFA.

 

Tony had changed Gibbs noted; Tony had certainly gained weight since he had left three years ago. The glasses, thick rimmed and large, but strangely suiting him, was also a new addition, and Gibbs guessed the lack of time also meant he also had no time to poke his eye out with contact lenses anymore. The three-day stubble seemed to be a permanent part of him, too. Despite all that, Tony’s eyes were filled with warmth and relaxation behind those lenses, his smile bright with not a hint of the fake one from years past, even if his eyes and smile held a hint of worry for Gibbs.

 

“Hey, Tony, How’ve ya’ been?” Tony seemed to take a moment before he reacted to the name, Gibbs noticed.

 

“Ah, I’ve been good, and actually,” Tony shifted uncomfortably. “It’s Jason, now, Jason Bull. I uh, I changed my name.”

 

Gibbs reared back, shocked at the revelation. Tony had never mentioned the name change any of the times he had called or emailed; it was a bit of a shock. Why would Tony change his name?

 

“Long story,” Tony- no, _Jason_ now, said sheepishly. “I’ll tell you when we get to- where are we going anyways?”

 

Gibbs sighed, seeing that Tony wasn’t about to explain at the moment, and nothing he said would change that.

 

“You’ll see when we get there, To-Jason.” biting his tongue, he fought the urge to petulantly call the younger man by his old name, not liking the change. Gibbs had to admit though, that Tony seemed happier that he had called him by the new name.

 

“All right, Gibbs, let’s get going then,” T-Jason laughed, green eyes sparkling. The larger man clapped Gibbs on the back.

 

“Lead on, MacGibbs!” Jethro relaxed a little, hearing a movie/TV quote, however weak, from his old friend.

 

* * *

 

 

The drive was quick, the location only an hour away from the airport, Jason dozing in the passenger seat; the flight from wherever he was apparently tired him out.

 

The wooded area was very different from the hustle and bustle of the city that was surprisingly close. The wooded forest was almost mystical, and the cabin that was their destination sat far into it by a large, sparkling blue lake, bright green grass with wildflowers popping up everywhere. The cabin would have surprised his team, not being the typical log cabin that they would have expected of him; instead, it was made of both brick and wood. It was semi-large and had a wrap-around porch with a bench-swing on either side of the front door. The cabin was painted with earthy brown and green tones and had box planters under each large window, sporting a variety of flowers, plants and hanging vines. The garden held vegetables and herbs, and the small fountain held some koi. The lake had a dock with a well-crafted but small boat tied to it, bobbing along the gently waving along the sandy shore.

 

The cabin was a thing of beauty, and Gibbs could see To-Jason’s now-awake eyes going wide and awe-filled behind his glasses.

 

“Gibbs, this is…this is incredible,” Jason muttered, drinking in the magnificent sight. “Who owns this place?”

 

Gibbs smiled, memories and feelings stirring in his heart as he, too, took in the almost magical area.

 

“I do.” Gibbs softly replied, his eyes misty. “So did Shannon before… well,” he cleared his throat. “It was our investment. We would rent it out during the spring and winter, and stay in it during the summer when I was on leave. Kelly and Shan’ would spend the weekend here when I was overseas.”  

 

Jason nodded, giving Gibbs a small smile that showed his thanks for sharing even the small bit of information with him.

 

“So how long are we staying here for?” Jason asked, and Gibbs sighed.

 

“Until my shrink is satisfied that I’ve talked, and not just spoken to someone.” Gibbs grimaced. “Thought it would be better to talk to you instead of some headshrinker.”

 

Gibbs didn’t see Jason stifle a smirk at that.

 

* * *

 


End file.
